First left after the bridge he said. At the end of the dirt road you’ll see a green house, white fence, fresh paint and porches. Can’t miss it. I didn’t. Decorated with nets drying and glass balls and other such debris from the fishing industry, likely recovered from the Sound nearby, it is clearly a West Coast fishing family who lives there. Off to the side there is a green shack where the shellfish catch is shelled and processed. Oysters and clams. Bramble, rain and southern exposure have created a final resting place. A midden to be sure. Earth memory, perhaps. Regeneration. Sculpture. Ghosts. Could be.
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